The Confession by Erin McCauley Read Free Book Online Page A

couldn’t shake. How could he be so drawn to someone he knew he couldn’t allow himself to trust?
    He walked into the dining room unobserved. Aimee was leaning in, reaching for the bottle of wine. Her blond curls were pulled back from her face in a fancy clip, her green eyes sparkled like emeralds, and her tanned shoulders were bare. She took his breath away.
    “You are fab-u-lous,” Luther said, kissing the top of Emily’s hand. She blushed, a genuine smile illuminating her face.
    Luther pulled his hands back and sat up in his chair, finally noticing Mark. “Well, there you are. I’ve been getting acquainted with Ms. Emily and was just telling her what a fantastic first impression you make on visitors.” Luther winked at him as Aimee’s face flushed a bright crimson red.
    “I’m sorry if I’ve kept you waiting. I had a couple of important phone calls to make.”
    He looked over at Aimee, unsure of how she’d react to him. She watched him for a minute before her eyes fluttered down, and she folded and refolded the napkin on her lap. The shy, hesitant girl he saw now was in strong contrast to the passionate woman he was kissing earlier. He realized he liked the variations.
    “We’re glad you’ve made it.” Emily nodded her head toward the empty chair. “It has been so nice getting to know Luther. He thinks he might be able to get us an original bag from Amore’ for the silent auction. Isn’t that great? He knows the owner.”
    “That’s great and very generous,” Mark replied. Looking over at Aimee, he asked, “How did you and Luther meet?”
    “We worked together,” she replied. “We’ve been friends ever since.”
    “Ah good ole’ Saks,” Luther said, folding his hands together and placing his chin upon them, expelling a wistful sigh. “Those were some fun times. Aimee was my muse from then on.”
    “Your muse?” Emily asked.
    “She is the most creative creature I’ve ever met. I think she could make a hat out of a spider web and people would pay top dollar for it.”
    All eyes turned to Aimee. “Luther is exaggerating. I was known for my window displays. That’s all.”
    Watching his face, Mark thought Luther seemed surprised by her response. “Is she being modest, Luther?”
    “I don’t think she gives herself enough credit for anything she’s done. Certainly not for her incredibly creative talents she likes to keep hidden under a bushel.” He looked directly at Aimee.
    “So what do you do now, Luther?” Emily asked.
    “I work for Amore’ Handbags on Fifth Avenue.” His voice sounded distant, almost disappointed.
    “Oh!” Emily said with glee. “Now I see how you know the owner. I think she’s amazing. Some of her new designs have a waiting list almost three years long. I would know; I’ve been on the list for the plum clutch for almost eighteen months.”
    “Let me see if I can pull a few strings on that wait time,” Luther said, winking at her.
    Mark wasn’t sure if he was overly suspicious after the “secret” comment, but he could’ve sworn Aimee looked proud at Emily’s statement. Looking again, it seemed her eyes were begging Luther to be quiet, and he was beginning to wonder if the sudden draft under the table may have been caused by a kick being thrown.
    “Did you work for Amore’ Handbags as well, Aimee?” he asked.
    Her face lost all color for a moment. Stuttering her reply, she said, “Not exactly, no.”
    “Not exactly?” he asked, receiving a disapproving glare from Emily. “What does that mean … exactly?”
    “Mark, we’re having a nice dinner, this is not an interrogation.”
    “I apologize. I didn’t realize I was interrogating anyone.” He turned his attention back to Aimee. “I was just curious about all this creative talent we keep hearing about. You’ve never mentioned it before. Are you an artist?”
    “No, I’m currently an assistant.” Aimee smiled at Emily. “My position keeps me very busy, although I am using my old